[GRIM TALES] Wulf Ratbane's SLAVELORDS of CYDONIA

Brigitta could feel an almost electric charge in the air. For months, the buzz had been building in the community: A new era was dawning on the world of man. But despite the growing consensus that something was imminent, there had been no agreement as to the nature of the event they all awaited. Whether it was her own proclivities, or simple luck, Brigitta’s gaze was drawn to South America, to the primal temples that sprouted from the jungles and ascended to the stars. Powerful magic had been performed there, once. Magic with the power over life and death.

And Brigitta was determined to see magic performed there again. Her magic.
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It was just a job to Teddy Carlyle. Just a job: Watch the girl. Protect the girl. Get his hands dirty so she didn’t have to. But still—South America? Was the pay that good? Well, sure, she’d patched him up, and got him out of trouble with the law—more than once—but after hundreds of miles through lawless desert towns, through mosquito-infested jungle, over the mountains and down again… And the whole way, swallowin’ his pride, takin’ orders from weaker men—takin’ orders from a girl—he had to ask himself why he was still stickin’ around.

Just a job?

Right.
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Colour Sergeant John Haskins gripped the machete tightly, while his other hand sought for the smooth, reassuring touch of his rifle stock. Though he certainly didn’t look it, he’d seen more travel than most of the other men put together—and he was starting to feel it. I should have stayed in retirement, he thought. But the pay was good, and Ms. Nielson showed a trust in his experience and abilities that, he had to admit, he’d been missing. He was fit enough to lead these men—Yanks though they may be—and fit enough yet to keep the girl out of trouble.

Haskins stepped out of the jungle and headed into the valley. “Come on then, lads.”

He was paid to lead.

And confident they would follow.
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Joshua Hambrick stepped into the clearing and snapped his spyglass up for a better look at the valley.

“Smoke,” he grumbled.

Natives? Souls to save? Maybe.

But he was beginning to think he’d have his hands full, just counting present company.
​

Rawley tugged lightly at Joshua. “Let’s have a look, padre.”

Rawley scanned the valley for moment, scribbled in his journal, scanned, and scribbled some more. He handed the telescope back to Joshua.

More scribbling.

“There ya go,” Rawley said, grinning. “Not bad, not bad. What do you think?”

[sblock] [/sblock]

Joshua glanced down and grunted.

Almost sounded like approval, Rawley thought.
​

William T. Brown stopped in mid-sentence and hitched at his holsters, annoyed.

“I thought you were along to chronicle my exploits, Sutton. Did you hear a word I just said?”

“Well,” said Rawley, “We’re well beyond tales of gamblers and gunfighters now, don’t you think? I mean, you’re hardly unique among this crew… I mean, we’re all just hired guns at this point.”

Brown’s moustache bristled.

“Hey, now, story’s not done yet,” Rawley said. “Impress me.”

Brown pushed past and headed into the valley.

“You bet your ass I will.”
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“Our destination is down there, gentlemen, somewhere in that valley,” Brigitta said. “I doubt we’ll see it from here, but there’ll be no mistaking it once we find it. A temple, shaped like a giant snake.”

“Pagans,” huffed Joshua.

Brigitta glared. “Don’t dismiss what you don’t understand, Mr. Hambrick, and don’t insult the spirits of this place. Neither bullets nor bibles will save you, then.”

“Really? Why’d you bring us along, then?” Brown asked.

“Because I’m not certain we’ll be alone in that valley. If you lot hadn’t gotten us in that trouble in Mexico, we’d be two weeks ahead of any-- ‘competitive interests’—by now.” Brigitta frowned. “At the very least, we’ll have locals to be wary of. I’d prefer to avoid hostility if at all possible, but if not… well, that’s what you men are for.”

“Let’s get on with it, then.”

The group plunged into the valley, and the jungle eagerly swallowed them up.
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